All my life, in one way or another, I have been honing the skills that prepare me to recount horse stories through photographic images. My earliest memories include my passion for storytelling. I didn't decide to act out stories for others. It was a compulsion. Along with that passion for storytelling, there was my consuming love of all things horse-related. I loved playing make-believe as a small child, and regardless of who I pretended to be, that character's life always revolved around horses. My coloring books had to include pictures of horses. I always finished off my burnt sienna, ochre, and black crayons first. My scrapbooks and boxes of precious objects overflowed with pictures of horses - prints of paintings, drawings, photographs, magazine photos, calendars - all horses. From the moment I began to read I read voraciously. However, if a book didn't include at least one horse among the main characters, it didn't hold my attention long. The stories I told myself about my future always had horses in central roles. My role in my life-script was defined by the time I was five. It was clear that my part in life's drama was to tell stories, using pictures (still or moving) to tell those stories, and always returning to the theme of horses.